


Laws of Hospitality

by midorimortem



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood, Blood Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Love Bites, Rating May Change, Romance, Vampire Bites, vampire and fae become roommates that hate each other at first
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:46:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27521749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midorimortem/pseuds/midorimortem
Summary: A dark fae invites a recently awakened vampire lord into her home, in hopes to entrap him by breaking the Laws of Hospitality. Unfortunately for Princess Perona, Lord Dracule Mihawk is very good at play-pretend.
Relationships: Dracule Mihawk/Perona
Comments: 20
Kudos: 38





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> The Ten Laws of Hospitality of the Kingdom of Kuraigana:  
> 1 Don't enter a Fae's domain uninvited.  
> 2 Never stray from the path.  
> 3 Always bring a gift when visiting.  
> 4 Speak no falsehoods and keep all promises.  
> 5 Don't consume food or drink without permission.  
> 6 Don't steal from the host.  
> 7 Keep thy manners. Aggression is not welcomed.  
> 8 Gambling is forbidden.  
> 9 Don't repay more than what has been borrowed.  
> 10 Never leave without farewell.

The Kingdom of Kuraigana held ten laws as sacred in exchange from the Fae Princess’ hospitality. Breaking any of them bound the transgressor to their host, owing them service and favor. Depending on how grievous the offense, it could also mean losing one’s life and soul. Humans came and went once in a while, but legends had surged around the dark castle in the mist-dwelling island about a hauntingly beautiful woman that entrapped men with her charms, that barely anyone got near to her domain anymore. The lady of the land had grown bored ever since her last toy had lost its purpose and she had decided to discard it.

It had been quite some time since the last human had wandered around her. She’d been bored to death until she saw him: a slender, trembling and fearful human sailor that had washed over the black-sand shores of her lonely, gloomy island. Inviting and welcoming, she offered him an exquisite dinner. She gave him shelter from the storm and warmth for the night inside her exuberant and luxurious castle. She tempted him with treasures and gifts that he refused to accept. It seemed the sailor would be able to leave, until… 

_Ah, it wasn’t pretty,_ the Fae Princess thought. The sailor took a knife and tried to sink it on her pale, supple bosom as they dined. The 7th Law of Hospitality had been broken.

_Keep thy manners. Aggression is not welcomed._

The sailor became bound to the castle, to the domain, and to her, all in the blink of an eye. He couldn’t fight it or resist the magic that transmuted his body into the will of his new owner. His skin began to dry until it turned to a soft white fabric, and his eyes froze in terror until they became a pair of black buttons sewn on his beautiful face. She smiled, admiring the newest addition to her collection.

Raggedy dolls never lasted enough, though. Her toy endured just enough for the limbs to begin to fall apart, then she decided it was best to release her sailor from her curse and sent him back from where he came from. Princess Perona threw the doll towards the sea, and the sailor, now human once again, sank to the deep, unable to fight the currents dragging him down, flailing with his now useless, broken arms.

The Princess sighed, annoyed. Her older toys didn't amuse her as much, and she had liked her raggedy sailor quite a lot. It was such a shame to lose him. Even if she had stitched him over and over again, through the years his fabric became nimble and thin, breaking apart with just her touch. She pouted as she made her way back to the castle, because it meant that if she wanted a new toy, she’d have to leave the island and lure another unsuspecting victim to her lair, in hopes they’d break the Laws. If it didn’t work, then rinse and repeat.

She hid under her umbrella as she walked past the cemetery, where she’d practiced the old tricks her father had taught her before parting from the domain to seek for stronger servants. At times, the corpses under the crucifixes rose from their graves and walked a few steps. Princess Perona invited them for tea, but before they managed to leave Holy Ground, they turned to dust and vanished in a gust of wind. But that late evening, there was something off.

That very large coffin she’d tried to pry open several times before had _moved_. The lid had _moved_. And she was sure she hadn't done it herself. Given the fact that Perona had been living alone in the domain for decades, it could only mean one thing: the inhabitant of the coffin had opened it on their own. 

The Princess gulped. She was not the bravest Fae there was, but she wasn’t a coward either. She pondered if she should ignore it and keep walking, but she knew that whoever had been resting on that coffin would probably make some very interesting company. That, or she could be in grave danger. She walked around until she stood in front of the stone coffin, only to notice it was empty. 

For a moment she believed it could have always been like that, but her gut told her that wasn’t the case. She knew… no, more likely, she _felt_ someone was staring at her, the intruder nowhere to be seen. Princess Perona walked around the casket with trembling feet, running her fingers over the stone as if she was trying to find some sort of clue as to its inhabitant’s whereabouts. 

“Aha! I remember I saw this last time I was here!” She told herself out loud, as her hands found a small inscription beneath the edge of the coffin. It was a rusty plaque with a vanished date of birth and death. Above it, however, a name was written in golden letters: Dracule MIhawk. The name had a nice ring to it, quite dramatic and cliché, but elegant. He’d make a great toy, the Princess thought, if she could only find where his corpse had wandered off to. 

As she rose from her crouching position, the pressure of the intruder’s stare made itself stronger. Perona felt a pang of fear rush through her spine, panic seizing control of her senses for a minute. However, she controlled herself as soon as her flight instinct was about to hit in. She was a dark faerie, for the spirits’ sake! She had more than enough tricks up her sleeves to control the entire cemetery with a single flick of her wrist, she should not be scared of a single walking corpse that refused to remain sleeping. 

“Show yourself!” She demanded, reading herself for combat if needed. She waited, but nothing happened. It must have been her imagination, she thought. Perhaps something occurred, a slight tremor that made the lid finally fall off. Perhaps the monstrous animals from the island had consumed the body… but she was sorely mistaken.

As the Fae Princess turned around, a large figure pushed her against a gravestone. Startled as she was, Perona was unable to gather her strength to fight back and the reanimated man quickly subdued her against the cold stone. Her enemy was tall, yet thin; he had ashen skin, pale as the moon above them, and his hair was grey and dry. Perona barely noticed, but his eyes were golden and vicious, like a hunter searching for prey. There was barely a chance for her to struggle, because he sank a pair of razor sharp teeth into her neck, drawing a gush of blood from which he drank.

The Princess panicked, expecting a pang of terrible pain to rush over her, but it never came. Instead, his bite brought a surge of pleasure that ran through her body like wildfire. She tried to repress a scream, but the feeling was overwhelming and she whimpered as the vampire fed off of her.

Perona trembled in his arms, as he rose to his full height and stared down at her. His skin had acquired a slight tan and his ashen hair had suddenly turned pitch black. He wore a white shirt, now stained with red, and a large black robe around his shoulders. The man wiped her blood from his lips and kept staring at her, perhaps thinking if he should keep feasting off of her.

It took a few minutes for the Princess to gather her composure, pushing the man away from her as she stood to full height too. Then it clicked on her. A new surge of power flowed through her veins and she smiled deviously, even if she felt tired, drained and a bit estranged for the strong sensations she’d felt a minute before. The vampire had broken the fifth Law of Hospitality. 

_Don't consume food or drink without permission._

“Kneel.” She ordered, feeling the powers of the wyrd tug on her fingers as the vampire had broken a binding contract he wasn’t even aware of. She expected him to obey without hesitating, but he didn’t even waver.

“You dare to order me around, young girl?” He said, raising a sharp eyebrow.

“I said _kneel!_ ” She repeated, but to no avail. The vampire, on the other hand, leaned down to stare at her eye to eye. “ _KNEEL!”_

Perona felt like slapping him, but he stopped her before her palm reached his face and grabbed her jaw to inspect her closer. He was incredibly strong, and he seemed interested in the wound he’d just opened on her neck. It was already healing, barely a couple of reddened spots over her skin.

“You’re not human.” The man concluded as he finished his inspection, but didn’t let go of her. “What are you?”

“Let go of me!” She demanded, pushing his hand away. “My name is Perona, Princess of the Kingdom of Kuraigana. My father ruled this land and left this domain under my command!”

“Your father?” He repeated after her, and something caught his eye. He grabbed her hand again and pulled her arm until he revealed a large bat-shaped birthmark over her shoulder. “You’re that old fart’s daughter!”

“Don’t you dare insult him!” She said, shaking her hand away from him.

“So that opportunistic fool seized my kingdom after that green haired hunter came here and knocked me down, and then he put his spawn in charge. How convenient of him.” The vampire muttered to himself, grabbing his chin as he thought.

“My father is no fool! And that happened ages ago! I have been living here for _decades_! For what my father told me, the old master of this land died more than 500 years ago.”

“500 years already?” The vampire said, quite surprised. “No wonder I was so hungry. It also explains why you didn’t die from so much blood loss. You’re a Faerie.”

“What if I am?!”

“It 's nothing. It just means that my bite doesn’t affect you.”

“Your… bite?”

“I can bind humans to my will when I’ve tasted their blood. But it seems they don’t work on Fae like yourself because no matter how much I try to control your mind for you to keep quiet, you just keep talking.” He said curtly and then waved her off. “Since you’re not going to be of service, I will let you go. Killing you would be such a hassle. Leave whenever you want to.”

“Leave? _Leave?!”_ Perona screamed, angry at him for turning his back on her. The vampire had started to walk towards the castle, but she stopped him before he could make any other move. The Princess pulled him over and pushed him against another gravestone, her eyes glowing in a mystical pinkish gleam that revealed a figment of her true nature. She wasn’t as weak as he initially thought, and perhaps the stupor from a 500 year-long slumber made Mihawk slightly weak that he could not break from her grip. “No, sir. This is _my_ domain now, _my_ Kingdom. You’ve been gone for 500 years, so no, I’m not leaving.”

“Then we’re going to have a problem, milady.” He said, pushing her and finally breaking away. “Because that is _my_ castle and I’m not leaving either.”

“You cannot enter my abode uninvited!”

“I need no invitation to enter _my_ abode.” 

They both stared angrily into each other’s eyes, knowing that either of them could make the other bend to their will. The vampire’s powers did not seem to work over Faeries the way they did over humans, and her supernatural strengths didn’t seem to be working since, technically, he hadn’t been breaking any of the Laws of the land. Somehow, drinking her blood and barging uninvited into his own home were loopholes in her carefully planned rules.

“Listen, young girl. This will get us nowhere.” He said, clenching the bridge of his nose as Perona complained for the entirety of the road back to the castle. He hadn’t drank that much and he was still tired, but she was making him feel dizzy. “How about we make a deal? You can stay. I can go back to my home. We will not bother each other. I’m only active at night and, as far as I know, Faeries are diurnal creatures. We don’t have to live together, but we can share the castle.”

“I don’t love the idea, but… I guess it can work. Mihawk, right?”

He nodded and adjusted the black robe around his shoulders when the wind began to blow as they made their way through the atrium of the large, tall gothic building before them. 

“Guess we will be roommates, Princess Perona.”

 _Not for long, you ungrateful bloodsucking leech_ , Perona thought as Mihawk made his way inside her home. _You may not be subjected to my will for two of my rules, but there are still eight more to go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who can't keep herself from writing random fantasy AUs from an unpopular ship, instead of writing her original fiction novel and her dissertation thesis? *Points at self proudly and cries*  
> Just so you know, I'm currently working on 6 Mihawk x Perona fics. I. LITETALY. CANNOT. STOP. (PLZ. SEND. HELP). I took it very seriously when I saw that there wasn't enough content about this ship and told myself I could fix that.  
> 


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perona wonders where Mihawk has been hiding for an entire month now that they have to share their palace, since she's not seen any relevant trace of the vampire around her realm since they met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, it's been 2 months since the last update. Here, have this mindless self-indulgent chapter!  
> (I will check this thoroughly in the morning, as always. I love posting without editing because I'm not functional when it comes to revisiting my own works).

Once in a while, Perona would find a glass out of place and a few drops of a dark red liquid spilled over her kitchen table. She wanted to believe it was red wine, but she knew better. At times, there would be a forgotten book in the living room that wasn’t there before the previous night, or the imprint of someone’s backside on the sofa. Otherwise, there was no sign that someone other than her had been living in her castle for over a month. 

What bothered her the most was that, not only did they never cross paths, but up until then Perona had no idea where Mihawk had been staying and resting during daytime all this time. If it weren’t for those little cues he usually left behind, the Fae princess could have believed their encounter might have been only a dream.

However, she was certain it hadn’t been a dream -a nightmare, most likely- because she could still feel his presence around her domain, even if she could not tell where he was. She’d never felt the need to protect her territory or fight for dominance, but it was in her nature to do so. She had the impulse to seize control over others, the problem was, vampires did that too. 

Even if they had agreed not to bother one another, his mere presence made her irascible and unreasonable. She felt that discomfort in her skin, prickling at times and burning at others, as if her magic asked to be released to punish the undead man invading her territory. If only she could get to know where the hell he was.

So, one moonless evening, where her powers of darkness became noticeably stronger, she decided to stay awake as long as she could. Perona took a couple of naps during the day and prepared herself for a late-night adventure, hoping to find Mihawk’s hideout and, if possible, a way to either control him or kick him out of her castle.

She doubted for a minute as she noticed the clock ticking away another hour. She didn’t have a plan, and for all she knew, Mihawk was a very dangerous creature. Perona would not die from blood loss because of two or three bites like most mortals would, but she would certainly not be able to face him in combat if he used his superhuman strength and celerity against her. However, even if there were rumors about vampires controlling darkness and shadows, Perona knew she had an upper hand thanks to her father’s gifts. That was her element and she had the night on her side, no matter what.

Nevertheless, it didn’t make her any less nervous. What if he got angry? What if they _did_ engage in combat? She’d not fought anyone in… well, never... she’d never really fought anyone! The laws of her domain did the work for her, but so far two of them have proven useless against Mihawk, so she wasn’t sure if the non aggression rule applied with the vampire.

“What did Father tell me about monsters like him?” She told herself, walking back and forth around her chamber. She clearly remembered her father said they were weak to sunlight, but there was something, something else...

Perona removed her nightgown, which she had worn for her last nap of the day, and put on a short, black chiffon dress she didn’t use very often. It was sleeveless, so she used it for warm weather or, in this case, when she needed mobility. The skirt was long on the back and short on the front with the tips ragged. Lastly, she tied a pair of suede knee-high boots around her legs and was ready to go.

Fae garments were spun with magic. Much like any other creature of her kin, Perona’s powers usually showed themselves on her robes. When she fixed the top around her breasts, several black roses bloomed and adorned her bosom, symbolizing her powers to reign over darkness and shadows. From her back, a thin, large mantle, dark as a starless night, fell from her shoulders down to her ankles. And above her head, a crown of dried up and blackened brambles adorned the pink locks of her hair. 

The clock ticked another hour and she noticed it was midnight already. Perona usually got bored around 11 pm and went to bed by then, never having crossed paths with the vampire before that hour. She knew, however, that he’d be up around an hour later. Out of caution, she’d gotten the habit to lock her chambers down before falling asleep.

“Better make this quick.” Perona told herself and sighed, unlocking her door and walking down the stairs into the dining room. She could use a cup of coffee.

The lights of the castle’s hallways were not lit, but Perona’s eyes were accustomed to the lack of torches and candles, so she found her way with ease. She fetched a cup and drank in complete darkness, but heard no sound or sign that Mihawk could be around. She thought that, perhaps, he didn’t have much need to go to the kitchen if he only fed off blood, but… how did he even get blood when they were the only ones living there?

“Aren’t you up past your bedtime, young lady?” Mihawk’s voice asked right behind her and Perona’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t heard or sensed him at all.

“I can’t sleep.” She lied, turning around to face him. He was dressed in a loose black shirt and a pair of red trousers along with black leather boots. 

“Didn’t we agree not to bother each other?” He inquired, but did not sound bothered.

“As far as I remember, we agreed not to bother each other. And I think walking around _my_ castle is not bothering anyone, right?”

“Guess you’re right, then.” The Vampire said and stretched an arm towards the cupboard above of Perona’s head, taking a pair of wine glasses with him. “What has been keeping you up that you’re wandering around _my_ castle, then?”

Perona scoffed at him, but shrugged and shook her head.

“I don’t know. If I did, perhaps I would not be serving myself a cup of coffee at midnight.”

“It’s amusing you say that, because it seems to me you’re not actually trying to fall asleep. Least dressed like that.” He eyed her from head to toe, and surely Perona took it the wrong way. Her dress was not revealing at all, but she didn’t like to be stared at in such a way. 

“How I dress is none of your business!” She exclaimed, covering herself with her pitch black mantle and sipping from her cup of coffee with a pestered expression. “And what I do with my time isn’t either!”

“I still don’t understand why you’re so mad at me.” He said, pushing her aside softly and walking down the hall with a steady pace. “I let you stay at the castle without much complaints and we hadn’t met in days. What did I ever do to make you angry?”

“You didn’t _let_ me stay, this is my home.”

“Ah, so you’re still bitter over that. Let it go, Fae girl, there’s no use in dwelling over it. Just like you said, this is your castle just as much as it is mine. I don’t like the decor you’ve chosen, but there’s not much I can do.” He stopped and turned around, leaving one of the glasses over the counter table. “I was thinking of inviting you over for a drink, but it seems you’re not up for it. Living alone in such a place must be tiring sometimes, unless those dolls you keep in the living room actually manage to keep you company.”

“Hmm… well, they are cute, but indeed they are not very good at chatting… that’s not the point!” She fumed and trotted behind him, her hands at her hips. “Anyway, I don’t drink blood, so I don’t want anything you have to offer!”

“Using the proper abilities I can enjoy other things aside from blood, just so you know. For example…” He snatched the cup of coffee from her hands and sipped from it, but he almost spit it out immediately. “You put too much sugar and cream on this, how can you drink this?” 

“That’s interesting… so it was wine all along?”

“I wouldn’t stain your glassware with human blood, that would be really crass from my part, and I know your people are all about manners.. I have stone chalices in my chambers just for that.”

“Where are your chambers, exactly?”

“So this is what it was all about?”

Perona pouted and nodded. Mihawk just laughed and fetched the glass he had discarded earlier, curling one finger for her to follow him.

He snapped his fingers and a large row of torches lit the way through the hallway, lighting their path as they walked. Perona turned around and saw how the ones in the back lit down on their own the more they moved forward. Scary creature, the vampire was… but then she remembered her father had warned her about them, and how fire hurt them just as much as the light of day. A torch would be such a nice weapon, she thought… but even if she still felt that itch on her skin, Perona didn’t want to look out for a fight, and she didn’t want to hurt him. The Fae Princess just wanted him out, or at least back at the cemetery, far away from where she slept.

Mihawk kept walking and descending into the entrails of the castle, one staircase after another. Perona had explored this place a lot of times, but she wasn’t completely sure she had discovered every nook and cranny there was. She knew her magic made the castle shift to her will, but the arcane powers that had created the palace seemed to resist being overcome by them. A perfect example of this was that she could not find where Mihawk rested. And the more they descended into what seemed to be the dungeons of the castle, the more she noticed her magic had no effect on the construction down there.

The longer they walked, she noticed the architectural design had reverted to its origin, into a very crude, fortress-like castle, instead of the elegant gothic her magic had crafted. The columns became shorter and sturdier, and the walls turned rougher, the stone exposed and unpolished. The doors, instead of being molded in refined black steel, were made of hard, dark wood, and they probably were as heavy as they looked.

Mihawk waved one hand and a large gate at the end of a particular dark hallway opened with a creak. Perona remembered having seen that door once before, but there was no way she managed to get it open. She had tried to send her servants to open it, she had tried using her magic and her reign over shadows to order the darkness into opening it for her, but nothing had worked. Perhaps it only granted its true master’s wishes, or it could only be opened with vampiric magic. 

Whichever it was, the chamber behind it was as large as any of the salons up above, but had no windows at all. It gave out a claustrophobic sensation in comparison, given the fact that the ballroom had large, colorful stained-glass crystals that went from the roof up to the ceiling. The furniture was elegant, made of black wood and adorned with red velvet. The bed, as large as a dining table, had silken drapes over its four posts, and it looked incredibly inviting.

On the back, it had a large sofa and a low tea table, where Mihawk rested the two glasses and offered the princess a seat. She took it and looked at him as he wandered around the room. The vampire opened the closet besides the bed and from the bottom, he took out an antique bottle of wine, and checked the scribbles it had on the side of the bottle to see if it was still apt for consumption. He uncorked the bottle and smelled its contents, nodding with a satisfied look in his face. Then, he rested the bottle at the table and let it vent for a few minutes before pouring it into their glasses. They didn’t share a word for a while. 

He walked back into the closet and took a crystal vial from the top, which was filled with a bright, red liquid that didn’t look at all like wine. Mihawk fetched a stone chalice from the nightstand and opened the vial, emptying some of its content on it. Perona noticed the liquid was a lot thicker and richer than wine. It had power and might on it. Blood. Maiden 's blood.

“How do you keep it fresh?”

“When you’re my age and you hate surrounding yourself with humans, you learn a few tricks. It 's an arcane spell, passed down by an old friend. As long as the blood is preserved on the flasks, it will remain fresh for an unlimited time.” He drank from the chalice and Perona noticed a few gray hairs that had appeared on his temple turned pitch black immediately after. “It doesn’t taste as good, but it's better than nothing. If I use some spare energy, I can make any human food nutritious and rich, so it compensates.”

“It is true, then… blood brings back sensations from the living to your kind.”

“Do not forget I am very ancient, girl. A freshly turned vampire can only dream of doing this. Most of them need to feed to barely keep themselves alive. I have the abilities and resources to give myself luxuries like this.”

“Interesting,” Perona admitted, crossing her legs and sipping from the wine. She suspected some similar spell must have been cast on the wine, because it was ages old and it tasted really good, not even close to vinegar as most overly-aged wines did. “So you just go out every once in a while in search of victims and bleed them out?”

“The reserve I have here can last up to ten years if I’m cautious. I’m very careful not to kill when it’s not necessary.”

“I’d have taken you for an apex predator, you know?”

“Wisdom comes from age. There was a time in which I enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, but that was quite some time ago.” He admitted, sitting down besides her and taking the other glass into his hands. Perona saw golden eyes flash red for a few seconds, and then he sipped again. He groaned in pleasure and rested the wine again.

“Well, this does answer some questions I had about you.” Perona admitted, letting her weight fall into the sofa in a very unlady-like manner. “But it also leaves me with many questions.”

“You’re free to ask away. I’m not one to be uncorteous to a woman. And besides, for all I know, your father’s not coming back any time soon. Unless another hunter puts me to sleep or vanishes you, we have an eternity to get to know each other.”

Perona grimaced. Eternity sounded like a lot of time. But she couldn’t deny she didn’t hate him as much as she thought she would. He didn’t seem to move around her parts of the castle, perhaps repelled by her magic, so he could not chastise him from straying from any path. He never touched anything that belonged to her without returning it, so he had never stolen from her. So far, either the rules did not apply to him, or he was very gracious at evading them.

“I’m not sure we can get along that much.”

“We’re not as different as you think.” Mihawk said, resting his head on his hand, laying back on the couch. “We’re both creatures of shadows and darkness… and even if you have adopted daytime habits and routines, I know you’re a child of the night. I can sense her mantle shrouding you.”

“Those are very sharp eyes you have in there, vampire.”

“I'm just curious about you, just as much as you are of me. I have seen the things you’ve done to the palace. Your magic is strong… and frightening.”

“Not as frightening as having maiden blood preserved for 500 years.” She chuckled, leaning a little bit closer to him. He smiled back and drank again from his glass.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“Talking about curiosity… What did my blood taste like? Was it any better than those?” She asked, pointing at the vials in the closet with a swing of her head. Perona shouldn’t be asking that and she knew it. But somehow, the itch in her skin grew stronger the closer she got to him, his fanged smile dangerous and inviting. The itch suddenly became some sort of heat that ran through her chest and her stomach, up into her face crawling through her neck. She could feel it burning, uncomfortable and unquenchable..

“Intoxicatingly sweet, just like the coffee you were having before. But I was starving, so anything would do. I’d need to have another bite to have a better judgement.”

“Oh…?” She said, tilting her head, almost as if tempting him to try it. But Mihawk was not stupid. He knew taking sustenance from her could mean doom. Even if the living pulse from her veins called him, he knew better.

“I won't fall for your games, Fae girl. If you want to feel like you did back then, you will have to ask for it yourself.”

“Tch!” She exclaimed with a cocky smile on her lips, pushing away from him. “Fine, then. You know you crave for fresh food, vampire. As far as my father told me, our blood is strong and powerful. If it brought you back from a 500 year long slumber with just one bite, I cannot imagine what it’d feel to do it again now that you’re back in shape.”

She stood up, and swaying her hips she made her way to the door and began to climb the stairs.

“Your blood is not purely Fae.” He said plainly, but it was enough to steal Perona’s smile from her face. “It tasted differently. It was rich and powerful just as you said, but there was something else.”

She didn’t even notice when he had vanished into the shadows of the hallway and caught her off guard, holding her shoulders with a steady grip and pushing her against the stone wall behind her. She gasped for air, but she didn’t feel threatened by his touch. But the burning heat in her skin reached her face and she flushed as his lips and dangerous fangs grew closer to her neck. But he didn’t bite.

“You know you’re at risk of becoming my puppet if you do that.”

“Then I will wait until you become a willing victim. And then, with that second taste, I will know what’s so strange about you, Fae girl.” he whispered in her ear and let go, vanishing back into his room and shutting the heavy wooden gate behind him, leaving Perona stranded at the hallway with a confused look in her eyes and a burning ache in her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is surely turning into nasty erotica at some point, I will properly tag it and change the rating when it happens, maybe. That is, if I get to finish it at some point~  
> Oh... have I told you I'm really stuck with some other fics I have in progress? Please pray for me!


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perona gets wounded by cold iron. Mihawk begins to notice things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Have I used the trope "A is hurt and B helps them with their bloody wound" with this ship before? Yes. Do I care? No. Will I use it again at some other point? Yes of course I will! Will I ever stop? I don't think so. Also, you can only pry this trope from my dead, cold hands.)

Why was there iron hidden in her castle? Cold, crude iron that buried itself deep into her skin, gushing crimson red and staining the soft white petals of the roses in her garden. Perona shrieked, trying to keep the blood on her forearm from spilling, but the pain was too great to bear. She cried and dragged her feet back to her castle, decided to ask questions later and tend her wounded arm first. Her hands trembled as she dug the drawers in the bathroom for some bandages, but she finally grabbed a hold of herself and made a half-assed tourniquet to stop the bleeding. 

Desperate and slightly worried there might be an intruder on her territory, she glanced at the clock on the hallway, hoping it was just the right time to scream for help. During the past weeks, she’d met Mihawk whenever they ran into each other at night, when insomnia caught her and Perona wandered down to the kitchen for something to drink. They would meet and nod at each other courteously, then they would sit down at the old table without talking much. She discovered the vampire woke up around noon, when the sun was out of the sky, but he always prefered to come out of his chambers once Perona was asleep to avoid bumping into her. 

But right now, she needed all the help she could get. So, she screamed his name at the top of her lungs.

Before her cry was out, he had already reached her location, a slight crease in his brow showing his worry. However, his eyes seemed to flash with a vicious light when he caught the visage of the stained bandages in her wrist, his feral nature showing immediately. Perona reprimanded herself for being so stupid, thinking it wasn’t such a great idea to call out for a vampire to help stop a bleeding wound. Mihawk seemed to be disputing with himself whether to help her or drink her dry, holding his weight against the doorframe as she whimpered and tried to apply enough pressure on her wound.

“Help me… please…”

The vampire shook his head, bringing himself back to his senses, and reached out for her. His hands seemed to hesitate, clawing at her injured arm with more strength than necessary, but ripping the bandages and pulling her wrist to the faucet to clean the wound.

“Cold iron… your kin’s bane.”

“Yes. There was a blade in the gardens... I was tending the roses before grabbing something to dine and I got hurt.” She said breathlessly as the blood ran down the sink and away from her skin. “There’s a special ointment on the drawer. It helps with iron-inflicted wounds. Can you fetch it?”

“Hold your arm tightly.” He grunted and let go, then went towards the cabinet she pointed at and rummaged until he found a crystal jar that reeked with a very pungent odor. Perona nodded and he handed it to her. The ointment was thick and it sparkled like it had shining crystals inside it, shimmering against the bathroom’s lights as she smeared it against her wounded skin. She sighed in relief, but he could see it still stung pretty badly.

“Your wounds do not heal when you’ve been hurt with your bane. Just like mine.”

“Silver?”

“Fire.” He corrected her, shaking his head. “Silver is very damaging, but it doesn’t stop us from healing. It kills the Children of the Moon like a charm, though.”

“I’ve never met one of them.” She said, trying to make small talk to hold back the pain and tears.

“And at this rate you never will if we don’t stop the bleeding.” He retorted, checking on her wound again. The cut was deep, but not lethal. Mihawk assumed she had bled that much because the blade might have been enchanted to hunt her kind. specifically dark faeries.

“Don’t say that, I still have a pest to kick out of my castle.” She chuckled, but he knew her words were mocking him. At that very moment, Perona was incredibly grateful he was there. Being alone could only mean she would have bled to death on her bathroom floor. Nobody would find out about her death for about another century when her father came back to check on her.

“Well, right now this _pest_ is holding back from biting your arm, so you better watch your words, Princess.”

“I’m joking.” She laughed nervously, resting her head against the sink, tired and drained from the pain. “Help me apply the tourniquet again. Once the ointment has finished doing its work, the wound will close on its own. Might take a couple of days, though.”

Mihawk nodded and silently wrapped her arm as she applied pressure against the injury. He helped her bind her arm against her torso, to avoid reopening the wound from a harsh movement.

“Your people don’t have scars?” He asked, quite intrigued as he stared at her neck where his fangs had sunk deeply into her flesh some nights ago.

“We’re not called the Beautiful Ones for nothing. No, we don’t, unless it’s from an iron wound that’s not treated on time. This one might actually leave a mark.”

“Pity, you have very beautiful skin.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, vampire.” She mocked with a slight blush on her cheeks, but shook her head and frowned. “I have a few scars here and there. I got them when I ran into trouble while traveling with my Father. You won’t get to see them, though.”

“Not with that attitude.”

“What a shameless flirt.” She teased back, but she could tell he was joking. Perhaps he didn’t want her out of the castle, but he didn’t want her there either. If, somehow, he could get rid of her, he’d be more than glad to be left alone in his palace. 

Mihawk stood and helped her up from her crouching position and offered her an arm to help her walk. Slightly reluctant to accept his help, she held onto his shoulder with her good arm and he latched his around her waist. His touch was very cold, but not unpleasant.

“Come, let’s prepare you something to ease the pain.” He said, heading towards the kitchen. 

“Just to make it clear… you didn’t put the iron blade in the garden, right?”

Mihawk shook his head, but then he frowned.

“There’s the chance it was left there by one of the men that came to hunt me down ages ago. The rose garden was already there when I lived here.”

“Yes, it has always been here. Before you and me, and it will remain even if we're gone. I tend to it with magic, but some of the roses were not feeling well. I stuck my arm to help them and got cut with the blade.”

“Have they told you they weren’t feeling well before?” He said, not questioning her ability to speak with the flowers and her powers to tend them without making too many efforts. 

“They are not very talkative, but they hadn’t said otherwise.”

“Then someone might have put it there recently. Have we had any visitors?”

“I threw the last one to the sea the night we met.” She stopped, bringing back some memories from that particular sailor. “He had tried to stab me before I turned him into a puppet, though. Perhaps he planted the blade in the roses before I found him. That would explain why they’d not continue growing for the past months…”

“Let’s hope that’s the reason. Otherwise, we might have to search for intruders.”

Perona sighed and winced from the pain, breathing hard through her teeth. Mihawk stopped to check on her, but she jerked her head, asking to keep walking towards the kitchen.

“When I am fully healed I can use my magic to look for traces of others in my domain. It drains most of my strength, so I might need your help in case we find someone’s been roaming our land without permission.” She breathed out as he helped her lean down on a chair and he went to prepare her an infusion to help with the pain, mixing some medicinal herbs that he knew worked well with humans. With any luck, it would easily take the pain away for a Faerie.

“Our land? Are we sharing now?”

“You just saved my life… or at least my arm. I don’t like you much, but the least I can do is play nice. My kind never forgets their debts.”

“Then perhaps you could pay me back and we won’t have to be amicable anymore.”

“I won’t let you bite me!”

“No, dumb girl. Your powers can detect traces of others. Could you trace those of my kind?”

She blinked a couple of times, trying to grab a hold of the context in which their conversation was headed. Perona feared there were more like him buried somewhere in the castle grounds and concluded she’d prefer to keep being bound to him or let him bite her over and over again, rather than having to share her home with more bloodsucking monsters.

“Maybe. I have never tried to do so.” She eyed him slowly, trying to decipher what it was he wanted without revealing that doing it would be as easy as breathing if she had something that belonged to him, like a strand of hair or a piece of clothing. Back in his chambers, he said he didn’t like the company of humans, but he never mentioned he was reclusive of his own kind. “Why do you ask?”

“When I was laid down to rest by that hunter years ago, I hid my best weapon somewhere in the castle grounds to avoid letting it get stolen. However, your magic has altered this place so much I cannot find any trace of it.”

“So it’s just a weapon?”

“It’s not just any weapon.” He reminisced with wonder in his golden eyes. “I was very weakened when I got defeated, but I could not be killed. Had the hunter found my blade, he would have definitely ended me.”

“What are you saying?”

“Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you this, given the fact you are not happy with me here, but that blade is said to be a gift given by Death itself to the Night.”

“A blade that can kill anything.” Perona whispered, amazed.

“Yes. A blade that cannot fall into the wrong hands. And if you’re smart enough, you won’t try to use it on me.”

“Is it cursed?”

“In order to kill the soul, one has to give something in return.”

"If I use it against you, that means we both die, huh?"

"Yes. It takes one life for another."

"How come you're unaffected?"

"Whoever rules the living, be the gods, the spirits, or whatever your kind believes in, they don't register vampires as living creatures. However, it takes its toll whenever I have used it in the past. Again, being ancient is of great help. Any newly-turned kindred would burn to cinders just from holding it."

"Now you're just bragging." Perona said while letting out a chuckle. She crossed her legs and sipped from the cup he offered, letting the taste soothe her tired mind. It took some minutes, but it eased her pain quite quickly. 

“It’s been quite some time since I had been able to ‘brag’, as you so call it, in front of anybody. You are a terrible company, but at least you talk back to me.So, at least humor me and let me ‘brag’ as much as I want, girl.”

Perona genuinely laughed for the first time in a while. But she let his words sink when her laughter died and there was something in them she didn’t like. If she caught the meaning behind them correctly, it could only mean he felt lonely, and for everything she knew about him up until now, he most certainly was. He had been in stupor for half a century, but he must have been all alone for longer than that before he was laid down to rest. 

If anything, the Fae Princess knew about loneliness. She had been living in that castle for seven decades, waiting for a father that might never come back. She waited and waited for him to take her to a place she could call home. Her toys were the only comfort she ever got from time to time, but they were never enough. With her father’s blessings and her own powers, she could have everything she wanted, but most of the time, the castle was nothing but a roof over her head to shield her from the rain.

And then, she came to realize that all they had was each other. Be it fate or cruel coincidence, perhaps they were supposed to end up sharing a creepy castle in the middle of nowhere, right in the borderland of the mortal realm and Faerie. A castle so magical, so strange, that it shifted with its inhabitant’s wills and that mortals only wandered into it when they had strayed from their routes out at sea. It seemed like a perfect hideout for a vampire who wanted to be left completely alone. It seemed like a perfect punishment for a young fae who’d angered her father and had been left stranded.

Perona sighed and let out a large yawn, rubbing her eyes with her one good arm. Mihawk gave her a pitiful look and began taking out a couple of pans and kitchen tools from the cabinets above.

“What are you doing?”

“Dinner.” He said bluntly, disappearing into the pantry and taking out a sack with pasta and a pair of fresh tomatoes. 

“That’s… don’t worry, I can do it myself.” She said, genuinely worried he might burn himself trying to light up the stove. He stared at the artifact with curious eyes, trying to figure out how to light the fire, but he could not.

“Let me help you, you’ve been wounded.”

“Then at least let me turn this on.” She said, lighting a match and putting into the burner.

“Your technology has changed quite a lot from my time.”

“It’s mortal technology, in fact. When I traveled with my father, we’d dwell into the mortal realm. We usually got into very heated arguments because I’ve always liked taking things from them into Faerie. He said it was dangerous.”

“Isn’t your father famous for snatching mortal souls?”

“Yes, he is. But he insisted that the remnants of human’s material possessions could drag them into Faerie.”

“Ah, he was afraid you might bring home a fairy hunter.” MIhawk chuckled. “It’s just as dangerous as stealing their souls or blood.”

“Go tell him that.” She said, blowing a strand of pink hair from her face. “He never listened to me.”

“What a privilege.”

“Jerk!” She said, snatching the pasta away from him and pushing him away from the fire. “Now, go make the tomato sauce, I’ll take care of the pasta. You better drink from one of your magic blood vials, because I don’t plan to dine alone, Hawk Eyes.”

“Right, right, Princess…”

* * *

A week had gone by and Mihawk decided it was his duty to do a daily check on her wounded arm every night while Perona was waiting for her dinner to be cooked. Instead of coming out of his chamber at midnight, he’d go out and into the kitchen a few hours earlier and change the bandages with utmost care, observing with fascination the thin white line that remained on her skin.

“Why are you so amazed by it? My kind is not the only one with special healing abilities, and I’m sure you’ve had your share of battles to know how other creatures look while wounded.”

“Yes. I’ve harmed your kind and killed some, even. But I’ve never seen one make a full recovery from iron.” The vampire said, running a pair of roughened fingers through her arm before she began to apply more of that thick ointment she had used nights before. 

“Not many can. I have to say I am thankful you were here to help or....” She let the thought trail on the air and shook her head. “I still don’t understand what’s so special about my healing, though.”

“It’s not your healing. It’s your blood. It calls me. It’s… it’s not something I can easily explain. You’re _alive_ , and my nature pulls me towards that. To you. I’d love nothing more than to bite you again, but....” He said with a low grunt, but coughed as if he was trying to bring himself back from stupor. “But I know your rules and I won’t risk doing something stupid.”

Perona gulped. There was that annoying itch in her skin again, accompanied by that horrid burning feeling that grew from her gut up into her throat and got stuck as if she had a knot tied around her tongue. Perona frowned, annoyed at him, but mostly annoyed at herself. 

“Don’t get too familiar with it. Once I’m fully healed, we go back to how it was before.”

She pulled the bandages from his hands and snatched her arm away from his grasp, finishing the tourniquet on her own. Then she stood up in one swift motion, drank what was left on her cup and ate the last crumbs of biscuits on her plate, then proceeded to walk away to lock herself in her chambers upstairs.

But then, one of his hands strongly grabbed her one good arm and stopped her from moving.

Perona trembled at his touch, but didn’t try to pull away from his hold. Mihawk stood in silence, not pulling her arm either. The Princess turned around to face him, still angry, but intrigued by the heat that was rising to her chest.

“Be honest. You only see me as a walking meal. You can’t wait to suck me dry the minute I let my guard down.” She hissed, glaring daggers at him.

“You wouldn’t understand.” He grunted, easing his hold but not letting her go. “I _crave_ the life that runs through your veins, Princess. It’s not just the blood. I have all the sustenance I need back in my room, but you… you have what I cannot have.”

“Seeing me spilling blood woke your hunger, eh?”

“I won’t say it didn’t.” Mihawk grunted, finally releasing her arm, but Perona didn’t move. He had let his head fall as he spoke, but a few seconds later he rose with a smirk on his lips.

“What is it?”

“I can _hear_ your pulse from here. Why is your heart running so fast?”

“I don’t know, perhaps that there’s a dangerous creature at my kitchen’s door, threatening to suck all the blood out of my body?” She retorted with sarcasm.

“Fear and excitement surely are similar, but I’m quite good at discerning from one another.”

Oh.

_Oh._

_Oh, no._

So that was what the itch was about. That explained the burning in her chest and the heat rising up to her ears.. 

_Damn._

“I don’t allow you to bite me, vampire!” She exclaimed, taking a few steps back into the hallway. “By the Laws of this land, if you were to drink my blood without my EXPLICIT permission, you _will_ be bound to my every command, and you _will_ serve me for all eternity.”

“Ah, you’d like that, won’t you?”

“Jerk! Jerk! Jerk!” She cried, throwing a tantrum and stepping farther away from him as he walked forward. 

By then he was just bullying her. Seeing her throwing a fit was actually kinda cute, now that she knew she felt some sort of attraction towards him. 

“Get out of my castle! I don’t want you anywhere near me!”

“There’s not much you can do, Princess..” He said, leaning closer and pinning her against the wall, baring his fangs at her with a dangerous smile. Perona could feel his breath against her skin, which made her shiver again.

“I’m sure you’d bet your own head against me as long as you could grab another bite.”

“Betting, eh?”

But just as he was about to propose a challenge against her, to see who’d fall first into the other’s mind tricks, Mihawk felt a powerful surge of eerie magic twisting in the air, wrapping itself around himself and around her. There was something in her words that made him think she was toying him again and that he should be careful with whatever words should come out of his mouth. Then something clicked for him.

“Ah… let me guess. Gambling is against the laws of the land.”

“Eh…? h-how do you know?”

“I’m not sure. I suppose it’s because you’re indebted to me that the Laws answer to me now as much as they do to you.”

“That… that should not be possible…” she whispered, sounding scared for the first time since he’d met her. Not even when wounded with cold iron had he heard her so frightened.

“I know a few things about your kind’s magic. The fates, the wyrd, whichever way you wish to call it, that alien energy that your kind has allegiances with... perhaps it’s because of the bond that binds us, but I can feel it. And it seems it doesn’t want me to fall into your childish games, Princess Perona.”

Perona cowered. If the rules of her land didn’t work on him, or if the darkness and the night had betrayed and turned against her to favor the strongest creature in the castle, she was completely defenseless against him. If he wanted, he could bite and mark and enslave her, just like he could do to any other mortal. 

She knew she was weak. She’d never be as strong as her father or as fearsome as Mihawk himself. It was a secret she kept to herself, and they made her vulnerable and frail. But she knew the vampire had a strong suspicion of her bane. If he got to know…

She had to get away from him.

Perona pushed him away and ordered the shadows to bind him, just long enough for her to run away. Hands of shade and darkness crawled up his legs and back and tied him against the wall where he had pinned her down, letting her escape without looking back. Then she locked herself in her chambers, hoping she’d not starve if she kept herself locked inside for a few days. If she could, she would go back to never meeting him again during the nights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These have been very hectic times for me. My kid is very unruly and has been demanding constant attention for a month, so the only times I have to write and work on my stuff are past midnight. And at times, like today, it's only past 2 am that I get a moment to sit down and work while she's trying to fall asleep. So, updates on everything will be really slow. I have another chapter finished I need to spellcheck and edit before posting, but beyond that I don't know if I can be constant with this work and the others I have pending. I have been trying to write slightly longer chapters too, but my attention span is a little limited at the moment, so I go with 4k tops.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much for reading up until here. If everything's going ok, I will post chapter 4 before the week is out.


	4. IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mihawk discovers a pair of old journals and finds out about something that makes his blood burn, if only he had any of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written at 2am on a Monday night, and I think it came out nicely despite all, but I don't have the energies to proof it or edit it thoroughly. If you see any obvious mistakes, please tell me so, you'll be doing me a huge favor.
> 
> (I think the rest of the fic may suffer from this same process, I'm too tired to even check anything's well written, and I'd rather just write even if it's badly done. I'm so sorry).

Mihawk wandered through the empty hallways very early in the morning, sipping from the glass of wine that he carried in one hand, and toying with the golden cross-shaped pendant that hung from his neck with the other. He was in a particularly good mood that day, for no other reason that he’d caught Perona sneaking back into the castle as he made his way out of his chambers. 

She didn’t seem to notice he was there. The Princess looked like she was in a hurry to go back to her room as fast as she could, perhaps to avoid crossing paths with him since the clock had already turned past nine o’clock. 

She wore a black silk dress which embraced her legs and twirled around her hips as she rushed inside the castle; around her breasts, raven feathers covered her body and fell down into her waist; a dark mantle was wrapped around her arms and fell down her back with grace and elegance, supported by a silver collar that hung around her neck; her rosy hair was adorned with a black and silver crown, the tips of it so large it looked like a halo; and her lips, curved in a grimace, were plum and painted a deep, dark crimson. He noticed he was staring a little bit too intensely at her and hoped she’d not notice he was there, since he’d not want her to make a scene when he’d barely woken up that night.

Mihawk could have followed her up towards her tower, the blood pulsing through her veins and her heart beating frantically against her ribs calling him like a siren’s song, but he decided not to do so. If he wanted the company he had craved for so long, he had to win her trust, and it was clear she was still scared of him, of the power he had over her magic. He opted out from stalking her like he was hunting for prey and instead, he turned around and kept on his long-time quest of finding where the hell did his cursed sword, Yoru, had disappeared this time.

The palace had changed drastically ever since he was laid to rest centuries ago. He was unsure for how long Moria had claimed the land as his own, or for how many decades Perona had been living there, but he could tell that some years had passed since his fall and it had been abandoned for a long time before the Shadow Keeper took it. Nothing seemed to be where he remembered except for his chambers and the dungeons, which were most likely the oldest parts of the castle. 

Ever since he woke from his slumber, he’d made it his daily mission to make himself a mindmap of all the locations he could find each night. It was no easy task because Perona had twisted everything to her whims and, even if Mihawk was not certain of this, rooms seemed to disappear and change from place every night.

The architecture itself had changed since the time he last walked the halls, just like Perona had mentioned when he guided her down into his chambers some weeks ago. Whilst his castle was constructed with strong, rough walls and columns, her magic twisted them into tall crystal windows and thin, spiraling pillars decorated with dark flowers and vines. Every room had some strange trinket that she had apparently pillaged from an unsuspecting human, and none of them seemed to be from her time or from his, always as if they had been snatched away from another world. Most of the time, Mihawk had no idea what those artifacts did, but he wasn’t one to experiment with them.

“Aha! There it is…” He muttered to himself as he turned into another dead end and then, as he walked back, caught a glimpse of the large library he had found many nights ago. He swore this was not the path he had followed before when he first found it. 

The library was mostly unchanged from his time, only there was a large window decorated with stained glass where there used to be none before. Some of the furniture had shifted to fit into Perona’s interior design, but the bookshelves and the books themselves were still the same, arranged just like he had left them five hundred years ago. It could only mean Perona wasn't much of a reader, but she wasn't so cruel as to destroy any source of knowledge. Thankfully, her magic kept them from ruin and dust. Secretly, Mihawk was grateful for that.

“I can’t remember what I was reading the last time I was here…” he said, not knowing what book to take out next. He could see a few shelves had been added on the back, where several human fairytales, children’s books and novels could be seen. He also noticed a few grimoires that seemed to be stolen were also piled down around the new shelves. But what really caught Mihawk’s eyes were a pair of leatherbound books that vibrated with Fae magic. The vampire could not see an aura or some sort of halo around the books, he just felt how some strange energy made the hairs on the back of his neck rise when he ran his hands close to them. He wondered if the debt that binded him and Perona together had anything to do with it, and how his senses seemed heightened by her magic.

He took one of the tomes and the magic vibrated against his hand immediately, only that it wasn’t Perona’s. It was Moria's. He could feel the Shadow Keeper’s shades creeping and crawling beneath him, prickling on his skin as his fingers brushed the book. Mihawk grimaced and thought about putting it back on the shelves, but something in him told him to keep up with his task, and so he took out one of the large volumes.

It was a journal of some sort, and he could tell it hadn’t been used or opened in years. For a moment, he thought Perona might not even know the books were there. The leather on the cover was so worn out it was very soft to the touch, as if it had been used quite a lot by its owner. It only made Mihawk wonder why he had abandoned it when he decided to ditch his daughter on a remote island decades ago. He opened the notebook and found himself with a bunch of scribbles and detailed diagrams and sketches that Moria certainly drew while perfecting the dark art of stealing mortal souls and shadows. 

Mihawk couldn’t be that much interested in whatever Moria had to say, no matter how intriguing his malevolent powers might be or how complex his craft. However, he could not put the book down and could not tear his eyes apart from the pages before him. He eyed them quickly without reading too much into the tiny scribbles and messy handwriting. He definitely avoided staring for long into the details of a very explicit diagram of human vivisection and akin bizarre graphic examples he found as he roamed through the pages. But there was something the book itself and the magic that coiled around it that made Mihawk keep up, almost reaching the end of the journal.

Then he stopped. His hands shook, a slight surge of anger rushing through his skin. He gripped the notebook and thought of thrashing it, but he kept on reading.

 _Human children and dreamweaving through nightmares and terrors,_ read the header of a newly started chapter in the ancient language of the Fae, atop of one of the last pages of the book. Then, Moria proceeded to describe some horrible methods in which to abuse the sleep of innocent children to bleed their energies away for an old, lazy and foolish Fae’s convenience. 

Mihawk didn’t like children. He had long forgotten the idea of parenthood and he hadn’t interacted with a human child ever since Shanks presented his newborn to him many eons ago. More than likely, that human was long dead by now, or perhaps he had inherited some of his father’s magical lineage and managed to live a long, prosperous life filled with mysteries and spellbound adventures, much like Shanks did. However, Mihawk loathed creatures like Moria who abused innocent lives for their own benefit. He knew what it was to be a relentless monster that needs to feed from fresh blood. He knew how it felt to lose control and harm innocent victims. He had lived all of it and promised to keep himself in balance, feeding only when necessary. Killing could never be out of the line for him, but children was where Mihawk drew the line.

For centuries, all the denizens of the night had been labeled as monsters, and for many good reasons. Chased and hunted like wild beasts by desperate humans, they were mostly led to extinction, if not for a few ones like himself that decided to escape the mortal realms and only interact with it when necessary. And still, there were some fools that preyed on humans like they were cattle, insensitive and apathetic towards their own kind’s suffering. Ah, if he ever got sight of Moria again, he’d tear that old bat limb by limb!

The more he read, the more disgusted he felt, but he could not put the book down. He was getting irritated that the strange magic had a certain degree of control over him, but so far it had been for very good reasons, helping him fend against Perona’s tricky rules. So he kept on reading.

 _How to turn human children into Faerie_ , read another header on the following page, with more disgruntling explanations on how to trick the little ones and forcing them into following the darkness, like a terrible pied piper. If Mihawk still had any blood running through his veins, it would have surely gone cold when he noticed what Moria had been thinking while he was writing that journal.

_On stealing souls and recruiting servants: adults are no good since they retain most of their memories and force of will. They will be more likely to rebel and fight against their masters, which usually ends in quick disposal. A few manage to escape, but mostly none return to their realm._

_Children are optimal, for they do not have many memories to anchor themselves to, nor enough knowledge of their world to fully understand the changes of Faerie. If the child comes willingly, they will be bound to the wishes of the lord of the land in which the child is kept. Life expectancy is not long, but they will be docile and follow orders._

_If the child is brought forcefully into Faerie, the wyrd merges into them and transforms them into little beasts.They are sturdy and tend to be toughened up by Wyrd itself, but they are mostly untamable. Some of them can be battered and domesticated, but most end up being disposed of._

_There is, however, a chance to breed human children within the realms of Faerie. The offspring will be strong and resilient against the Wyrd, as long as the master binds mother and child to an oath. If one expectant female mortal is brought into the land of Fae, and the master sires the child she carries, the babe will be born with the blessings of Faerie, in exchange for the mother’s life._

Mihawk trembled with anger as he finished reading, but did not waste another minute with the book. He thought about opening the second volume of the journal, but instead he took it from the shelves and darted out of the library, making his way up to Perona’s tower. Sometimes it fascinated him how much they were polar opposites, the very place where they each slept a clear example of this: one in the darkest, lowest dungeon in the castle, the other at the tallest, most beautiful tower surrounded by mist and clouds.

He stood in front of the large steel door that framed the entrance of her room, but then hesitated at knocking. 

He knew what he wanted to say: he had a very strong hunch about the secret she had kept for so long that only his bite could begin to decipher. He wanted to tell her everything he’d read in the first journal and he wanted her to tell him she’d never heard of such things before, that Moria was a bad, bad man that deserved to be punished. But in reality, Mihawk knew that, whichever was the case, Moria was still Perona’s father. It didn’t matter if she knew she had been abducted or not, she’d still be loyal to him. 

Still, he wished to know. So he knocked, and expected to hear noise from the other side of the door, but nothing happened. Perhaps she was fast asleep and didn’t hear. He could wait until tomorrow night, as he was certain dawn was drawing closer and he didn’t have much time. But he really wanted to hear it all.

“Perona…” the vampire let out with a firm, yet hushed voice. “Perona, please, open up, I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to see you! Go away!”

_Ah, so she was awake._

“I found your father’s journals.” He said, slightly hopeful that it would rouse her curiosity. Then he heard bed sheets rustling and footsteps and her voice was closer than he had expected.

“Those are not for you to meddle around! Leave them where you found them, Vampire!”

“Perona… I know.”

“And what is it you know?”

“I know what Moria did to you and your mother.”

Then Perona did something he didn’t expect: she opened the door, staring at him with dumbfounded eyes, then she dragged him inside the room with a strong pull and dropped with him into her bed. 

Her chambers were very different from the rest of the castle, decorated with plants, flowers and glistening jars and trinkets hanging from the ceiling. It seemed messy, but the more Mihawk looked around, the more he noticed it was a very orderly chaos. Just like her.

Even if she wasn’t asleep, she had probably tried to go to bed a little earlier, since she was wearing a very beautiful white nightgown, made of plain cotton and lace. It embraced her curves quite well, and he couldn’t help but stare for a second.

“You can read them?!”

“You cannot?”

“No. Father never taught me how to read the ancient language, he just told me how to read modern and bits of human languages… how can you do it?”

“I’ve been around this place for a very long time. When I decided to hide between the realms I decided it was best to learn the language of the local folk. For the few times I could go into Faerie, it was completely necessary.”

“He left them here when he dropped me off. He said he wouldn’t need them any more.”

“Tell me something… you did know what he did to your mother, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course I know. I’ve never heard the whole story, though. When I was younger he used to tell me he’d fallen in love with a mortal maiden and she’d followed him into our homeland, but as years went by, I believed him less. So… yeah. I guess you know my secret, eh?”

“You’re human.”

“Not quite.” The Fae princess fixed a lock of unruly pink hair behind her ear and sighed. “When the Fae takes the pregnant mortal into Fae, he decides to sire the child. At that very moment, the Wyrd recognizes the baby as _his_. That means, it turns them into a Faerie, just like that.”

“It doesn’t make much sense.”

“Nothing does with Faerie magic.” She said, letting out a soft giggle. “I am human, but I am also Fae. Not half and half, just human _and_ Fae”..

“That explains so many things…” Mihawk muttered, handing her the journal. “I left the other one in the library, but I needed to give you this. It…. I am sure it has a record of everything your father did to you and your family.”

“He’s not as evil as you think he is.” She defended him, taking the notebook and placing it upon her lap. She opened it and drew her fingers through his handwriting, a few happy tears dropping from her eyes.

“You know the reason why he wanted a human child?”

“Sure. Children are perfect for dreamscaping. A mind full of dreams, nightmares, imagination, monsters, everything that’s possible, wrapped around those cute little heads of theirs. Dreams are sources of power for my kind, and children’s wits are like mines of gold to us. Faerie children are very scarce since most of my kind can’t reproduce, so they’ve made abduction and impersonation into a habit for centuries. It’s rarely because they want to experiment with parenthood, though.”

“That’s only part of it….” Mihawk said, explaining to her what he’d found in the journal earlier before. Perona did not wince or even said a word when it came to child labor, abduction and all the other terrible things he’d read.

“I know he sounds terrible… perhaps he was. He was into some very shady business in Faerie anyway... but I never saw another child under his service while I was with him, if it gives you any comfort. I am not sure if there were others before me, though.”

“That could only mean he only took the notes and never did it, or that he found the perfect solution when he took you in and stopped altogether.”

Perona shrugged, then she moved sideways and took a light shawl from her nightstand to wrap herself with it.

“So… you think he wrote everything about me in this journal?”

“It’s more than likely.” He said, still reluctant to open it.

“Would he have written about my mother?”

There was something that sounded a lot like hope in her voice. Mihawk deduced just from that that Moria had never talked about the mortal maiden that brought her to life. That thought alone made him feel miserable. Even after all these years, he still remembered the embrace of his mortal partens, the warmth of his time as a human before he turned into what he was now. To be so alone, abandoned by the only man she had ever called family, it wasn’t fair for a girl like her.

“Would you want me to read it to you?”

“I don’t want to owe you any more debts!” She complained, but there was something in her eyes that told him she didn’t care. She really wished to know about her past.

“One bite. I won’t ask for more. Now that I know it's that human heart of yours what’s calling me, it is very easy to understand. And the sword, as we had stated before.” He said, and Perona rolled her eyes with disgust. “How’s your arm, by the way?”

“Almost fully healed, thanks for asking.” She said, feigning courtesy but showing him the thin remnant of the wound in her arm. “How do I know you won’t suck me dry if I say yes?”

“I won’t. One fresh bite from a human can keep me going for a month, whilst the ones in my cabinet can only do so for one night. If you want to see it in the worst way possible, I wouldn't let precious blood go to waste if I can have the chance to have more of it.”

“That would only mean you’d have to do something as big as this for every month until the end of eternity for me to let you bite me each time.”

“I can try, I have a lot of time to waste.” He said with a cocky smile on his lips. “And if that brings a silly smile upon your face like it did a few minutes ago, I think it’s worth the while.”

“Fine. I guess you did bring a gift when you came in. That’s rule number three.” She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. “But I have one condition. You’ll have to wait until the new moon. It’s when my powers are at their peak. If anything happens or you lose control, it is the only time of the month in which I can fight back at my full potential.”

“When the sky is moonless, you’re stronger. A true child of the night.” He said, smiling and reaching out to touch her still injured arm, but he moved away before he brushed her skin. Mihawk stood from her bed and observed Perona for a few seconds before backing away from her, noticing the sun was about to part up the sky in just a moment. “I will read the journal to you tomorrow night.”

“Then I will give you blood two weeks from now.” She said, nodding in agreement. Mihawk tensed as he felt another surge of her power twirled and coiled around them, binding them yet again. “I give you my word.”

“And I trust you will keep it, Fae Princess.” He said with a slight reverence of his head, and then he vanished into the shadows of the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I've not been feeling well lately, anxiety and panic getting their horrid grip on me. Long story short, I had to move away from home because of a very nasty angry neighbor and thankfuly some relatives took us in. Y'know? It's very horrible when you finally think you're getting some peace of mind, that things seem to be getting better, only for an idiot to make you feel unsafe and in constant danger. I don't want to go into much detail, it's been quite a terrifying experience, but I've been having daily panic attacks and severe PTSD for around two weeks and it worsened a few days ago. That was when my partner decided we had to move away.
> 
> I hope I will have more time to write now that I feel safer and that, perhaps, my kid's sleeping schedule goes back to normal soon, but I won't promise an update anytime soon. 
> 
> Well, thanks for reading anyway and sorry I rambled. Have a good end of month and I hope February brings a lot of peace to all of you. I certainly need and deserve it.


	5. V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mihawk reads the old journal to Perona. In return, the Fae Princess helps him find his missing sword. Tension arises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not proofed, we die like Ace.  
> (please don't hurt me)

Perona tugged at her skirt with uneasy, sweaty hands, thinking that maybe everything that had led up to that moment was a very tasteless joke that the Fates had decided to play on her. She wrapped herself in her favorite shawl and walked down the infinite stairs into the kitchen, where she assumed it was a good place to meet with her new roommate. She noticed the room’s lights were lit and there was a very nice smell coming out from it, so she knew her hunch had been correct and the vampire was waiting for her behind the large wooden door. 

“Good evening.” He said, not looking up from the casserole in which he was cooking, tasting the ingredients as Perona walked in. Besides him, one of Moria’s leatherbound journals laid closed beneath a recipe book.

“Hi.” Perona said shyly and sat behind him at the kitchen table, not peeling her eyes away from the journal. She was anxious to know, but she wasn’t sure if she’d like whatever was written within those old pages of her father’s book. She removed a stray lock of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. Her leg bounced impatiently as she waited for him to finish, without saying another word.

Mihawk turned around after a few minutes and served the contents of the casserole into a pair of thin crepes and folded them nicely, then he sprinkled some spices atop of the dish for presentation. He handed the plate to his partner and offered her a glass of white wine, for a change. Perona enjoyed the smell and accepted both the dish and the cup.

“You didn’t have to prepare dinner.” She said as he sat before her with his own plate in hand, and carefully lit a couple of candles between them.

“But I wanted to.” He said, giving her a fanged smile. “If we’re going to get along, better make it worth it. How is it?”

“It is good. I’m amazed you can cook when you can’t technically eat anything other than blood.”

“Alas, with age comes wisdom.”

Perona chuckled and rolled her eyes with a playful smile on her lips.

“Let’s cut to the chase, I don’t like small talk. Shall we?” Mihawk said and pointed at the journal. She nodded and waited expectantly as he ran his fingers through the pages. “The last journal ends with your father finding a young maiden. She was not certain of being pregnant just yet, but Moria knew beforehand. His last entry describes a secondary energy emanating from the mortal woman, but it says nothing worth noting. Is it fine if I start from the second journal?”

Perona nodded again, touching the tip of the open page before her. Her father’s magic pulsed and surged through the ink and through every single written word. It was like a long-deserved hug she had wished to receive for so long, that even a few tears escaped from her eyes.

“You can tell me to stop at any moment. But… let’s see.”

_December 12, 18xx from the mortal calendar._

_I’ve found a fair mortal maiden who’s been pregnant for the past three months. Her shadow’s thin and subtle, not the best hideout I’ve found these days, but it will make do. She doesn’t seem to know just yet, but there’s a strong, second heartbeat beating within her belly. She’s an orphan from a very poor human village, frail, feeble and sick. From sight, it’s more than likely she won’t survive the pregnancy. Perhaps if she got her hands on some more nutritious sustenance, she might get more color in her cheeks and some more meat on her bones, but a harsh famine has hit her village this snowy season. The moment she finds she’s with child, she’s more than likely to try to get rid of it, be it before the babe is born or abandoning it once it’s delivered. If the plan is to make the child my own, I have to make my move quickly._

Mihawk looked up from the journal, staring at Perona’s eyes as if asking for permission to continue. She barely nodded, but it seemed like she was trying to comprehend as much as she could from the information that had just been laid out before her.

_December 24th, 18xx_

_The maiden found out about the baby. She wishes to keep it, but she knows her chances are dim. Apparently, the father died not long ago in a hunting accident. They were to be wed next year, but the Fates are cruel. Mortals celebrate an important religious holiday these days and they gather with family and friends to dine and drink. She’s all alone. Evidently, she hasn’t stopped crying.The few sustenance she has, she focuses on keeping the babe on her belly alive. She wakes up scared she won’t feel the creature moving. She’s scared, and even the shadows can feel her tremors at night. I will have to take her sooner than I expected._

_January 1st, 18xx_

_Her name is Marrow. She came willingly as soon as I promised I could keep the baby safe. I couldn’t promise her to keep both of them alive, though. She says she doesn’t care as long as the baby is born well. I didn’t tell her where we were going or anything about my nature. She didn’t find it strange to step into the shadows and disappear from her village in the blink of an eye. Guess motherly love is just as mysterious and strong as mortals make it out to be._

“There's… he sketched a portrait of her. Do you want to see it?”

Perona nodded again and stretched her hands to him with haste. Mihawk handed her the journal, careful not to close it. She knew her father was quite skilled at drawing, but she could not tell if his depiction was accurate at all or if he had groomed her image to his liking. However, the maiden seemed to be just as he described her through words: frail, feeble and sick. Her eyes were big and dark like Perona’s, but her cheeks were hollow and her hair was completely straight, falling down in two curtains that framed her sullen face. She obviously wore no makeup, probably she wasn’t even able to afford it. But her smile was defiant and strong. That, at least, made her look alive. Perona noticed her father had made no effort in adding any colors to his sketch, so she could not know if her hair was a faerie trait or if it had come from her mother.

“Mortals don’t usually have colored hair.” Mihawk said when she voiced her concern.

“A girl can dream.” She said and shrugged. Perona returned the book to him and asked to continue reading.

_January 25th, 18xx_

_Marrow doesn’t ask where we are going. She can’t help with any labor aboard the ship, but she doesn’t demand more than she’s given. She’s far too young to be suffering such a fate. Her belly is growing by the day and she looks so tired and so weak each time I look at her. I have to admit I have taken a liking to the girl. I picked her only because nobody would miss her or the baby if she went missing. But now I see she’s much more worth than she lets out to be._

_February 16th, 18xx_

_The doctor says the baby will probably come around the end of May. A child of Spring, it seems. Marrow isn’t getting any better. We’ve tried helping her, but her condition isn’t improving. But she’s fighting. If she can only make it to the end of April, I will make sure she sees all the wonders of Faerie during her last days on this Earth._

Mihawk stopped and waited for Perona to say something. The girl’s fingers were curled up against her skirt in fists, making too much pressure that her knuckles turned white. Her eyes were watering profusely, but she held her tears back and refused to cry. 

“Should I stop? We both know where this is heading…”

“No. Please, go on. I… I need to hear it.”

“As you wish.” Mihawk doubted for a second, unable and unwilling to keep his eyes away from her.

_March 2nd, 18xx_

_I can feel her energy now, her life force pulsing inside her mother loud and clear. She’ll be a very strong, magical girl._

Mihawk smiled before he read the next part. He actually laughed, a soft chuckle that made Perona stop whimpering for a second and stare at him slightly bothered.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re going to enjoy the next part.”

_April 10th, 18xx_

_Something strange happened. Marrow’s dark hair turned pink out of the blue. When she went to bed last night, it was dull and brown as it had always been. This morning, it turned bright pink, full of life and energy. Faerie has begun to work its magic on her the closer we get to the main capital. It has made me and the doctor wonder if there’s any method to help her and keep her alive after she gives birth, but we’ve got time against us. I will look into it, anyway._

“Do you mean...?” Perona asked with a hopeful voice, her big black eyes full of wonder.

“Yes, your hair does come from her, it seems.”

The Fae girl smiled shyly and nodded, then gestured to him to continue.

“When were you born?”

“June 6th.”

“...this is the last page. He wrote two more dates and then he stopped....” Mihawk let the pages run, trying to find some other annotation but found none. “I had imagined he’d write some more things about you, but…”

“Ah, he did. He did show me those journals, and he still keeps them on his ship for further references. After all, I was one of his successful experiments. For what I can tell, my mother was not.” She rested her hands against the table and then her face atop of them, waiting to hear the end of the story. “At least I’m glad he tried to help her. I know Father is not the best man there is. We do not belong to the Seelie court, but we are not Unseelie either, so we fall into the gray sometimes, and he looks out for his own interests all of the time. But… I was afraid you were right about him being a ruthless monster.”

“He was trying to use children to harvest dreams and nightmares.”

“I know. I know he’s done awful things and what he did to my mother was no best. But in the end, I never found any other children. I was either the last one or the only one. At least the Father I know is not a monster.”

“If that’s what you want to believe, then I cannot say otherwise.”

“Thanks for reading anyway. Can we finish?”

“Surely…”

May 27th, 18xx

_We have been busy running experiments and tryouts to keep both Marrow and the baby alive, but none have shown any improvement on her condition. She’s growing weaker each passing day. She doesn’t talk much anymore and she barely eats what the baby needs. I think she’s accepted her fate, but I wish to fight it. I still want to try, but our hopes seem dim._

_June 7th, 18xx_

_Marrow passed away at dawn after giving birth to a beautiful baby girl last night. She suddenly began to bleed and we knew it was time, so I took her down the galleys into the doctor’s wing, where she delivered the child. Marrow didn’t cry or complain, she simply did her job and then she breathed no more. We docked the ship at a small, sunny island and buried her body at a meadow, beneath the shadows of a large oak. I can visit her grave as long as the darkness keeps a guard on her resting place, which is at least a bit reassuring. She let me name her, but I still can’t find a name that suits her. I hoped at least she’d die knowing her child’s name, but she wished to rest as soon as she could and I didn’t have the heart to deny her that. Wish we could have spent some more time sailing together. She was a nice girl._

Perona kept holding her tears, but it looked like she couldn’t keep it down any longer. She began to sob and cry and for a long moment, Mihawk didn’t know what to do. He had always been very bad at feelings and helping people sort them out, but he felt compelled to make her feel better. He set the journal aside after a few seconds and reached out for her. Touching her skin made his fingers crisp painfully against her wrist, her blood calling out for him, but he kept in control and reprimanded himself for acting like a brute. He softened his touch and pulled her into a soft embrace, letting her head rest on his shoulder.

“It’s fine to cry. Let it out.”

“I don’t need your comfort, vampire…” She cried and whimpered with a runny nose, but let herself fall into his hold.

“You may not need it, but I think you want it.”

“Shut up.”

“I will.”

And Mihawk did not say another word for the evening.

_* * *_

“We have two more days before the new moon. I think it’s more than enough time to find your annoying sword.” Perona liked to pretend nothing had happened the night he read to her, that Mihawk had not seen her bawl her eyes out because of an old journal his father had ditched decades ago in her library. “But I must ask, what do you plan to do with it?”

“Are you nervous?”

“My laws protect me. The Wyrd may have taken a liking towards you, but its very essence is the concept of retribution. If you hurt me, the Wyrd _will_ hurt you. So I guess your immunity against the sword wouldn't work this time.”

“I didn’t plan to harm you. Against all odds, I like you.” He smiled cockily and Perona didn’t care to hide her blush, but she frowned and pouted at him. “I plan to ask for your help to keep it safe. Your magic twists this place to your will and I am sure you can create some sort of protective spell to keep it away from prying hands.”

“Yeah, it’s not so hard. I can think of a few ideas. Making a new law is the one I find the easiest, but it would have to replace one of the old ones. There can only be ten at a time.”

“Let’s find it first and we will argue about that later. What do you need me to do?”

“I need something that belongs to you. Since it’s quite an item to find, I will have to take more than a piece of clothing or a strand of hair.” She leaned a little bit closer and smiled, clasping her hand around the pendant around his neck. “You always carry this so close to your heart. I’m sure it will work wonders.”

“You want my pendant?”

“Yup! It’s valuable, it’s significant to you, and you look just as reluctant to lose it as if I was telling you I’m planning to keep the sword for myself.”

Mihawk removed it from around his neck and handed it to her, barely lingering on it for a second before letting go of the golden chain. Perona smiled as she took it and inspected it, running her hands across the soft, cold metal, enjoying its touch.

“Please don’t lose it or break it.”

“No, I wouldn’t dare. Vampire tokens are so rare to come by nowadays this is practically an invaluable antiquity.”

Mihawk grimaced, but it did look good hanging around her neck… her beautiful, thin, blood-filled neck…

He slapped himself back to reality and tried to pay as much attention to her as he could, no matter how distracting her steady pulse was. Perona smiled and pressed the cross-shaped pendant against her lips, her lipstick smearing over the top. She muttered something under her breath, as if ordering something at the cross, and then she waited in silence for a few minutes. Mihawk didn’t know what to expect or what to look out for, but he suddenly got the awkward sensation that someone was staring at him, right behind his back. No matter how strong he was, he knew it was best not to look at whatever force Perona had invoked. It surely was a lot more ancient than he was and he was not stupid to defy the strange forces that the Faeries dealt with.

“Don’t be afraid of the dark...” she chanted, closing her eyes and extending her arms to whatever was standing behind Mihawk’s back. He didn’t dare to look, and better let her work her magic. “...for the dark is all we have when we turn to dust. Let the shadows grow and light your path, for only they know where those who are hidden lay at…”

There was a prolonged silence, until Mihawk felt Perona’s hand holding his shoulder, forcing him to turn around. He hesitated, but she barely giggled and tugged at his arm.

“It’s fine to look now, the darkness would never harm one of their own.”

“I’m intrigued as to how your powers work.” He stated, noticing the castle looked a lot darker than before, as if all the lights on the room they were at had no will to stay lit.

“I've told you the Wyrd is a law of retribution.” She explained and pointed down at the hall, where his golden pendant seemed to be floating. Mihawk then noticed the shadows were holding it in mid-air, using it as a pointing arrow. “You give and the Wyrd takes. But also, you take and the Wyrd gives. Everything in Faerie is ruled by a law of balance, much like you said your sword’s curse worked.”

“That explains so many tropes in mortal literature.” He said, remembering some things he had managed to read in the books he’d seen along with the journals in Perona’s bookshelves. Back in his days, fairy tales were not commonly written down, but they were spoken and shared from one generation to another. He’d heard them many times and he understood them better now, wondering how many of those cautionary tales were facts and which ones were fiction.

Perona held his arm and walked towards the shadows and the floating pendant, which started to move on its own down the hallway and turned in the first corner to the left, then kept going straight.

“My kind makes oaths and pledges with many forces of nature to try to understand and benefit from the Wyrd in some measure. But we only do as much as we know it’s safe. Those who abuse the powers of the Fates… well, they can’t tell the tales.”

“Your family has pledged with shadows and darkness, then.”

“Yes. My father also pledged with the wind so it will always blow against the sails of his ship. In return, he offers certain tributes to it each year. I pledged with flowers and plants to keep my gardens. I help them grow and they protect our castle.”

“Hence the thorns and brambles.”

“Yes. Which gives me a very clear idea of where your sword may be,” she said, turning into another corner that led down a set of stairs and down into the main garden.

“Outside?”

“Something like that.” Perona said with a smile, following the pendant outside the garden into the courtyard, still close to the castle but right outside its grounds, closer to the cemetery than to the tall gothic palace they shared.

The pendant floated a bit higher, carried by the shadows under Perona’s command, and then it stopped right in front of a large willow. It’s falling leaves created a curtain that hid the trunk, and Perona swept her hand to order the leaves to move around for them to cross the natural threshold. The trunk was old and lush, covered in green and Spanish moss. Mihawk could see a few insects moving around, hiding from the intrusion as soon as they walked in.

“The trees and I are in a complicated relationship,” Perona said nonchalantly. “They guard the castle, but they don’t let me take care of them, so we don’t interact much. I just make sure they don’t get any plagues on their roots and leaves and they’re fine with it. But if I had known one of them had kept your sword under his guard, I might have asked him to give it back sooner than later… mostly because I would have wondered who the owner was at some point.”

Mihawk stared at the tree with caution, noticing the leaves and branches were swaying steadily while no wind was blowing around them. He could feel Yoru’s presence close by, but he wasn’t sure if the sword was within the tree or beneath it. 

Something clicked on him as he watched the greenery around the trunk. He remembered the last night he’d roamed the borderlands before he was attacked and put to sleep. He had buried Yoru into the ground with a single swing of his wrist and waited as the hunting party made their way into the middle grounds where his castle was found, engaging him while he was at his worst. He didn’t go down without a fight, he never surrendered, but he would not have been defeated if he hadn’t been so tired and thirsty that night.

Mihawk was weakened, his last flask of blood had run out a couple of days ago and he was preparing to make a trip to the mortal realm to claim some more to last for a few months. With any luck, his friend on the other side would have finished his new stash and he’d not have to make another trip for a very long time, but the shipment would not arrive until the end of the year. He’d have to go out and hunt if he wanted to be able to wake up every night, or he’d starve before the year was out. 

The hunter who chased him down bested him on that and took his chances when he knew Mihawk would not be able to kill. Noticing it was a lost cause, the vampire decided it was better to hide his cursed weapon from the world, burying it deep inside the castle’s courtyard where nobody would look for it. 

There were no trees back then, the ground so barren that only the enchanted white roses could grow on their own. But apparently Perona’s magic changed that, and a strong elderly willow now kept his sword safe from any harm.

“This is the place where the green-haired hunter defeated me.” Mihawk said, touching the tree’s trunk with care. “We fought and he stabbed me right here, over Yoru’s hiding place. The last drops of blood I drank were probably the ones who helped the willow grow so strong and big.”

“That hunter wasn’t human, right?”

“No. I don’t know what he was, but he was stronger than the average mortal man. His friend, who I might have killed to feed from her, might have been completely human, though.”

“I see…” Perona murmured, caressing his arm as Mihawk reminisced on the past. It must have been terrible for him, being so strong and powerful, to be defeated by a young man filled with spite and anger.

Mihawk had his doubts about how his own story ended. He had fought and harmed the hunter. He knew he had at least torn out one of the hunter's eyes during the fight and almost sliced his chest in half with a small knife he kept on himself at all times. But he didn’t understand why the hunter hadn’t let him burn by the sun after he won. Why was he resting in his grave? Who put him there? 

Mihawk could only assume the hunter either fled to tend his wounds or died from them, without caring much about disposing of the body after he was victorious. Thinking back from all of it, when Mihawk returned to his chambers, his flasks were full and neatly placed inside the large cabinet in the dungeons, more than enough to last him a decade. Was his old alchemist friend the one who found him and saved him from the merciless sunlight? Was she the one who laid him down to rest, for him to wake up in a better tomorrow? Mihawk had no way of knowing. He wasn’t even sure the old alchemist was alive by now…

“Do you want to try asking him to give it back?” Perona asked, and Mihawk nodded in return. 

She placed her hand atop of his, running her fingers through his arm beforehand, and she closed her eyes in concentration. Mihawk could feel her magic surging through her skin, as if she was pleading the tree to talk back to her in a silent conversation. There were no words, but for once, he felt as if he could pledge with the powers Perona talked about just as easy as she did.

The wood cracked beneath their fingers and the tree trunk split open, twisting and turning and shaking to reveal a large, man-sized black blade with a golden cross-shaped hilt, resting inside the tree. Mihawk stretched his arm and seized his weapon, smiling proudly at Yoru. The sword seemed to shine with eagerness to slice and kill like it did before, but Mihawk knew those days were long gone. His powers were the only ones who could keep the savage sword at bay.

“The willow says it can keep it safe for you. It will protect her from intruders and he will only open up to you and me, for you to take the sword when it’s needed. As long as you give your word to protect them.”

“Sounds like a fair deal to me. Here, take it back.” Mihawk said, handing the sword back to the tree. He had never seen trees moving, but he wasn’t that much amazed when some of its branches latched around the hilt and dragged it inside the trunk again. “I will protect your brothers, this land and the fair maiden that keeps it flourishing. I swear on my sword, which you keep under your guard.”

The willow shook a couple of times, a bunch of dry leaves falling down as it moved. Then it went completely still.

“He seems happy.”

“So do you.” He said with a cocky smile.

“Yes. One of our binding oaths is complete at last.” She said, but her smile beamed at him. “But you swore on your sword that you’d protect me. That’s actually really nice of you.”

Mihawk couldn’t help but smile back at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, next chapter features the second bite and it will be very kinky. I am currently writing it and I... I feel so ashamed I'm writing this much filth, but I am thoroughly enjoying myself lol. It depends on how it goes, but I might have to change the rating from M to E or at least tag the chapter properly. Also, I got a perfect idea for more nasty, kinky sh*t to write for my PWP series, as a side story for this one, where I can be as disgusting as I can lmao.
> 
> What do you think? Should I make next chapter really filthy or should moderate myself?
> 
> Anyway, minors please KEEP AWAY FROM NEXT CHAPTER.


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The promised moonless night finally arrives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> As always, this is not betaed or proofed, please be mindful of that and tell me if you see any painfuly obvious mistakes!
> 
> (This chapter is +18 but not explicit enough to change the entire fic's rating to E. Be mindful there are certain topics that might make some people uncomfortable, proper of making an appearance in an M rated Vampire AU story. If you'd like to skip the smutty parts, please stop reading when Mihawk curses and mentally slaps himself for being such an idiot, until the end of the chapter).
> 
> Please, enjoy!

The promised moonless night had finally arrived. It had rained softly earlier that day, and the forest clearing where Perona had summoned him at night was bathed with droplets of dew in every single leaf and flower around the glade. Mihawk knew she had chosen that place to protect herself in case he lost control. She was surrounded by nature, and darkness reigned wherever he looked around. If he got carried away, she could subdue him with a flick of her wrist, not even breaking a sweat. 

On the other hand, he wondered if she had any other ulterior motive to summon him in such a beautiful, secluded place, when they could have easily met at her chambers or at the castle's garden and it'd be all the same. 

He could tell just by looking around that she spent many hours grooming her grove, tending the plants and flowers like her pledge bound her to do. However, he could also notice she had fixed herself a napping patch on the grass, softly pressed as if she had slept there recently. He noticed there was an improvised tea table and a stool beside it, made from a pair of old, hollow trunks that had been cut and sanded smooth for her to sit.

Perona appeared behind a curtain of vines and ivy, her eyes trembling with both fear and excitement. She barely nodded at him, acknowledging his presence and what was about to happen. The faerie sighed and sat down at the ground, peeling her coat from her arms and shivering slightly as a cold breeze ran around the glade. She was wearing a very elegant tulle dress, colored a very soft hue of pink, like freshly poured sparkling wine. The top had an open, sweetheart neckline with puffy sleeves that fell down to her forearms, leaving her shoulders uncovered. 

Mihawk almost groaned at the sight. Almost.

“Don’t stare too intently…” she said, blushing from ear to ear with a shy smile on her lips.

“You… ahem… you look great.”

“Thank you. I found the dress while traveling with my father. A bride left at the altar threw herself to the sea. Father took her shadow before she drowned, and let me keep the dress. I hadn’t found a moment to use it, but I thought you would like it. ” She said, twirling her hair and stepping in closer, standing just a few steps away from him. Then, she crossed her legs and sat down at the grass, patting the spot in front of her for the vampire to do the same. 

“A wedding dress, eh?” Mihawk said, letting out a cocky smile. Indeed, he liked the dress a lot, but he liked the bearer better.

“So… uh… how do we…?”

“I…” Mihawk doubted, then he sat besides her. “The less we talk about it, the faster we get this done.”

“You’re right… but, uh… I have one doubt. If you don’t mind me asking.”

Mihawk tilted his head, quite surprised, as he didn’t expect an interrogation at this point. If she had any doubt, he had expected it to come earlier than just a few moments before he was about to bite her.

“Go ahead.”

“Why does it feel pleasurable?” She touched her neck where he had bit her before. Mihawk almost lost it, hearing the loud pulse on the veins around her collarbone. “When you attacked me the night we met, I… well, I felt _really_ good. Almost as if I’ve had…”

“As if you’ve just had an orgasm.” He said, noticing she was dilly dallying with her words. 

“Well, yes. That.” 

“If I have to be honest, I’m not entirely sure why it happens. It comes with the vampiric curse. It makes the victim stop struggling and, the more intensely they get bitten, or the more frequent it happens, it can become addictive.”

“I suppose that makes sense. But… does it always happen? When you’re fighting and you bite your enemy, do they feel like that?”

“Not to that degree. The emotions the victim's feeling are quite decisive. The bite might not give them sexual pleasure, but it does make them lower their guard. Most stop struggling and can be easily defeated afterwards. Some have told me it feels like euphoria, not pleasure.”

“I was struggling greatly when you bit me, and I wasn’t happy about it. How come I got so… excited?”

“It seems to be more effective on humans, men and women alike. You were caught by surprise and I was really hungry that night, so that might explain why.”

“How ruthless. You were really going in for the kill, weren’t you?”

Mihawk nodded, avoiding to look her in the eye. Perona scoffed, but it was at least reassuring to hear he hadn’t been planning to kill her other than the night they met, and that months later he at least felt remorseful it happened that way. 

“Will I feel pleasure this time?”

“Yes.”

“Do you feel pleasure too?”

“Do you feel pleasure when you eat your favorite food?” Perona nodded and so did he. “Animal blood tastes like mud. It will keep you alive, but it’s disgusting. The cold maiden blood on the vials is like eating something crafted with old, preserved ingredients. Fresh human blood is gourmet food. And yours in particular…”

“You said it was too sweet.”

“I didn’t say that was a bad thing.”

Perona gulped. 

“I didn’t mean pleasure from feeding. I meant… sexual… pleasure.”

Mihawk chuckled. Inherently, no, he didn’t feel the same pleasure as the victim. But he could turn it into pleasure with certain arcane vampiric powers using the blood magic he consumed at the moment. It had been ages since he’d used it. But, oh, how he wanted to try it now.

“Why do you ask?” He mocked her, slightly scared she had no previous experience, noticing where their conversation was headed. He knew he’d not be able to be a gentle lover to her, not in his current state. If she wanted him to be thoughtful and kind, it would certainly not come as a result of a bite.

"I am curious." She said and Mihawk could not tell if she was telling the truth or if she was concealing her true intentions.

“You know, curiosity killed the cat, little faerie.”

“But satisfaction brought it back, vampire. Don’t do riddles on me, I’ve got the upper hand.”

He chuckled, leaning closer to her and placing his hands on her neck with tenderness. Perona shriveled at his touch, holding to his wrists for dear life, but she could already feel those arcane powers they had talked about some seconds ago, making her weak and vulnerable to his charms.

“Close your eyes.” He whispered in her ear as he leaned closer. Perona gasped and did as she was told, letting him pull her into his embrace.

Mihawk’s fangs sank into her skin, tearing it open and drawing blood immediately. His lips then pressed against her collarbone and he drank to his heart’s content, whilst Perona melted in his arms and clenched her hands against his back, clawing at his shirt. The pain and pleasure mixed in perfect harmony, bringing tears to her eyes and a burning heat down her chest and navel.

The vampire didn’t want to stop. He could keep drinking from her, enjoying her taste and the soft moans that escaped her lips as her body twitched in her afterglow, but he knew better. The animalistic and feral part of him subdued to his rational and collected nature, bringing him back from accidentally killing the young fae cradled in his arms. 

She shivered again, her back arched with pleasure and her legs curled up in fetal position as she regained composure and Mihawk let go of her neck, cleaning her blood from his lips with his thumb, licking it afterwards, not letting a single drop of precious crimson go to waste. The wound closed within seconds, no sign of anemia or faintness in her flushed face. But her eyes, burning with desire and hunger, clearly told him she wasn’t done with him just yet.

“Bite me again.” She groaned, latching her arms around his neck and drawing him as close as she could.

“I could lose control, Princess.” Mihawk muttered, slightly nervous. He was sure his kind could not feel arousal since their bodies had died when they became embraced by the vampiric curse, but she was making him have his doubts. Her hot breath close to his lips, her firm grip against his neck, and most definitely her sweet and delicious blood pulsing beneath her skin was making him go crazy.

“You won’t. If you lose it, my Laws will stop you.” 

“What if they can’t?”

“Then take me… please… bite me, make me yours...”, Perona pulled him towards her, but Mihawk held her wrists and shoved her slightly.

“Perona, stop. Remember your words have power...” She was fighting back, and Mihawk could feel her shadows and vines creeping up on him, but he had to stop her somehow. He held her face softly and forced her to look him directly in the eye, until she stopped struggling and slowly came back into her senses. “You’re euphoric and excited. Tell your shadows and plants to release me now.”

“S...Sorry.” She said, waving her hand to make the creepy crawlies retract back into the grove. “I… I got carried away.”

The blush on her cheeks was endearing, her teary and confused eyes quite lovely. Mihawk didn’t want to release her face, he didn’t want to let go of his embrace… but he knew if he didn’t do it, he might consume her whole.

_Ah, damn it all._

Mihawk cursed and mentally slapped himself for being so stupid, knowing he might turn into a monster in the blink of an eye. It had been ages since he’d felt such strong emotions. Ever since he locked himself up in the borderlands and stopped having any contact with mortal and other kindred spirits, he’d been mostly alone. He didn’t miss their company, he didn’t want their touch, their feelings. But Perona, _oh, sweet, sweet Perona,_ this faerie woman could drive him mad. 

She could almost make his undead heart beat again. Almost.

She could, with a bit of help of his own vampiric strength and the potency of her inebriating blood. Mihawk sighed in defeat, his eyes flashing red for a second as his dread powers made her blood pump through his heart and his veins, making him feel truly alive for the first time in centuries.

And he kissed her.

His kiss was rough and battered, drawing small, yet cherished drops of blood from her lips whilst little moans escaped her as she came undone with each caress and bruised kiss he gave her. Mihawk sank his fangs on her neck once, twice, trice, making Perona squirm with pleasure each and every single time. He was secretly thankful she recovered so quickly that he’d not leave anything more than a set of pale, vanishing scars on her porcelain skin tomorrow morning.

The swordsman laid her down on her back, letting the beautiful wedding dress stain in greens and reds as it pooled around his lover. Perona spread her legs to let him rest his weight atop of her, barely letting go of her neck and lips for a split second. 

“Mark me.” She demanded, pushing him down her bosom, and Mihawk did as she pleaded, biting into her breast, down into her hips as he tore the corset open and pushed the long, pale skirt aside. She had come barefoot into her glade, so there were no stockings to remove this time. It was a nice surprise to notice she wasn't wearing any undergarments either, though. He bit into her thighs, down at her knees and as close to her core as she would let him without pushing him away, and Perona loved each and every bite he gave her. 

Nude as she was before him, Mihawk really wished to devour her, to consume every inch of her skin until she was all his. But not a single nerve in his being pushed him to harm her. He wanted to drink her dry, to bruise her lips and ruin her body, just so that he could do it again tomorrow night. And the next one, until the end of days.

He loosened his trousers and tossed his disheveled shirt aside, placing his dark mantle besides Perona and rolling her over it before he buried himself deep inside her, enjoying the sensations he had long forgotten through the years of solitude and isolation. Perona kissed him softly as he pushed deep into her center, feeling so alive as if he had never fallen into the damned vampiric curse.

She moaned his name so sweetly and breathlessly that Mihawk wondered how much could she keep this up. His former suspicion that she might be inexperienced had been debunked quickly, and she definitely didn’t mind him being rough with her, as he kept biting and pulling hair and scratching her skin without much care.

Mihawk rolled on his back and placed the Fae girl above him for her to ride him. She whimpered but smiled, fixing her position as soon as she noticed his intentions. Perona rocked her hips against him with a perfect rhythm, relishing the sensations of feeling herself in control for a while. The vampire leaned down and enjoyed the view as she jolted in pleasure. He ran his hands through her legs and up her hips, resting them on her backside to help her keep the cadence of her movements.

When he felt he had enough, he pushed her up and turned her on her back. Her body was so perfect, and her pulse was so unsteady and rampant at the moment it only invited him to bite the back of her neck, trailing bloody nibbles and rough kisses down her spine as he pounded against her.

Mihawk waited for her to ask him to stop. He thought she’d eventually tire or get uncomfortable, but it seemed she was so lost in her pleasure that she didn’t want him to stop at all. The night was still young and the sun wouldn't come up for many hours. He could have her all for himself as long as he wanted and could keep going… but he knew he shouldn’t abuse her extasiated state and he should stop before she began to truly hurt, or she’d not be able to move later in the morning. After all, she was still diurnal and he was robbing her of precious sleep time.

He held her waist as Perona rested her torso against the ground, fixing her position to receive him better, and Mihawk began to accelerate his pace to reach his own extasis. Within seconds, he grunted and came undone, pulling out just in time. It was mostly a formality, he knew. His kind couldn’t breed. But it had been such a long time and she was such a special being, he’d rather not risk it. He bit her one last time to help her finish, letting her rejoice in her orgasm as he wrapped his arms around her and made her lay down in the grass, over his mantle, with tender hands and soft kisses around her collarbone. She moaned and rested her head against his neck, closing her eyes to enjoy the sweetness of the idyllium she was feeling. 

“We’re even, then…” She said breathlessly, wrapping herself in his coat.

“Do you want us to be even?”

“Of course not. Let’s do this again.” She smiled and kissed the corner of his lips, talking in a very sleepy and lovely voice. 

Mihawk let her fall asleep and dressed himself up after cleaning them both. He picked up her dress and tossed it up his shoulder, then he carried the sleeping faerie girl on his arms, still wrapped in his dark mantle, and walked her back to her tower in the castle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, to celebrate the ship's tag has reached 50 works on the archive, and because it's Valentine's Day, I made a [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/49UgJ6T8aQMC1k6LzNT6eN?si=o37UzLBvQqKIhwdK-_p2JA) for this fic!
> 
> You can find the song list on [my sideblog ](https://ghosts-and-swords.tumblr.com).

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos & bookmarks are loved, comments and recs are adored and worshiped!  
> Hit me up in Tumblr: [ Midorimortem ](https://midorimortem.tumblr.com/)


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